


of fevers and sand dollars

by carefulren



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Day At The Beach, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sick Grantaire, Sickfic, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 04:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13356432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulren/pseuds/carefulren
Summary: There are many things, Grantaire has come to learn over the years, that Enjolras has missed out on thanks to strict parents and a scheduled childhood, but when Grantaire learns that Enjolras has never been to the beach, he makes a firm promise to take Enjolras as soon as finals are through.Since then, he’s had the whole day planned beautifully. He and Enjolras are going to swim, find seashells, lounge under the warm sun, and just enjoy the beautiful setting mother nature has to offer.What’s not a part of the plan? Being sick.





	of fevers and sand dollars

There are many things, Grantaire has come to learn over the years, that Enjolras has missed out on thanks to strict parents and a scheduled childhood, but when Grantaire learns that Enjolras has never been to the beach, he makes a firm promise to take Enjolras as soon as finals are through.

Since then, he’s had the whole day planned beautifully. He and Enjolras are going to swim, find seashells, lounge under the warm sun, and just enjoy the beautiful setting mother nature has to offer.

What’s not a part of the plan? Being sick.

The day they are set to leave, Grantaire wakes to a dull throb thumping against his temples, and that’s paired with a runny nose and itchy throat: all tell-tale signs of a cold. Of course, he thinks as he slips from bed carefully to not wake Enjolras. Of course he would get sick the day he’s going to introduce Enjolras to something new, something beautiful.

He shuffles quietly to the bathroom of their shared apartment and winces at his pale, sunken reflection in the mirror. Strands of hair are clinging to his temples, and he presses the backs of his fingers against his cheek to feel a slight warmth that has him reaching for the thermometer.

In just a minute, he’s frowning at the blinking 100.2 degree reading. It’s not bad, he tells himself as he puts the thermometer away and grabs a bottle of fever reducers. He pops two into his mouth and dry swallows them with a grimace. He’s hoping these will work because he’s not going to back out of his promise to Enjolras; he can’t back out of his promise.

“R?” 

Through the mirror, Grantaire can see Enjolras standing in the doorway behind him and rubbing at tired eyes with hair falling out of his loose top bun. “Hey, sleepyhead,” Grantaire says before quickly turning the tap onto cold water and leaning forward to splash water across his face. He only leans up when he feels a lazy finger tracing down his spine.

“What are you doing?” He asks as he blinks water from his eyes and reaches for a hand towel to pat dry his face. 

“Giving you a hint of what we are going to do on the beach.” 

Grantaire gasps, and the sharp inhale of air grates against his throat and leaves him coughing. He presses one fist to his mouth and uses his free hand to wave away Enjolras’s sudden look of concern. “Choking… on air,” he manages out between coughs.

When his coughing tampers off, he shoots Enjolras an incredulous look. “You know we can’t have sex on the beach, right?”

“Why not?” 

“Because there will be other people there. Families. Children.” 

“We don’t have the beach to ourselves?” 

Grantaire snorts and shakes his head. “No. Unless you want to wait until winter and get hypothermia and die.”

“That doesn’t sound very pleasant.” 

Grantaire laughs at this and plants a kiss to Enjolras’s cheek. “No, it does not,” he agrees before stepping around to give Enjolras the bathroom, only to stop when a strong hand latches onto his wrist. He glances over his shoulder with a frown.

“You’re okay?” Enjolras asks.

Grantaire’s lips curl back up into a smile, and he nods. “I’m okay.”

*****

Grantaire is, in fact, not okay.

The drive to the beach, itself, was rough and filled with stifled sneezes and weak coughs that he had to blame on allergies. Enjolras, of course, had allergy medication on him and offered some to Grantaire, and Grantaire couldn’t decline. He chased the pills down with one of the waters in the cup holder before thanking Enjolras for being as prepared as ever.

And now, with the two on the beach, Grantaire is wondering how it’s possible to feel cold despite the sun beating hard against his back as he stumbles through sand to find an empty spot. But, it’s worth it, he thinks as he tenses his muscles to fight against the chills no doubt brought on by a spiking fever.

Enjolras is all wide-eyed and grinning like a child as he kicks sand around and snaps his gaze in every direction as if he cannot get enough of the sight, and Grantaire would have come today even bleeding out from a bullet wound if it meant getting to see Enjolras like he is now.

“You weren’t kidding about how many people would be here.” 

“Nope,” Grantaire replies as he spots an empty spot the two can set up in. He points toward it, and the two hurry against the hot sand to snag the area before someone else can. 

It takes them roughly ten minutes to get the large umbrella and chairs set up in a way that meets Enjolras’s standards, and once they finish, Enjolras is already slipping his shirt over his head.

“Can we?” He asks, already glancing toward the vast ocean with eager eyes, but Grantaire shakes his head and holds out a bottle of sunscreen. 

“Believe me when I say you do not want a sunburn,” Grantaire says as he squirts some onto his hand and motions for Enjolras to turn around. He begins smoothing the lotion across Enjolras’s defined back, hands freezing when Enjolras giggles quietly. 

“What?” 

“This is just like in the movies.” 

It’s Grantaire’s turn to laugh, and he shakes his head and continues rubbing the lotion along Enjolras’s golden skin. “You’ve lived such a sheltered life.”

“Until I met you.” 

“Until you met me,” Grantaire agrees. 

Once Grantaire finishes with Enjolras, Enjolras offers to return the favor, and the second the cold lotion makes contact with Grantaire’s sensitive skin, he shivers.

“Sorry,” Enjolras apologizes as he speeds along the process. 

“No worries,” Grantaire tells him before he chomps down on his cheek to keep himself from freely shivering. 

“Your skin feels really warm,” Enjolras says, and Grantaire can hear the frown in his boyfriend’s voice as he’s directed to turn around until the two are facing each other. 

“You’re flushed,” Enjolras adds, but before he can reach a hand toward Grantaire’s cheek, Grantaire deflects with a devious grin. 

“Forgive my blushing,” he starts before leaning in closer to brush his lips close to Enjolras’s ear. “This is just something that’s always been in my fantasies.” 

“R!” Enjolras shouts, cheeks coloring a deep red as he beats a weak fist against Grantaire’s bare chest, and Grantaire laughs before snatching the bottle of sunblock from Enjolras. 

“Let me finish this really quick,” he says, still laughing as Enjolras quickly looks away to stare off at the ocean. He’s quick despite his shaking hands, and once he’s through, he tosses the bottle close to their beach bag then steps forward to lace fingers with Enjolras’s. “Ready?” 

Enjolras nods eagerly, and the two walk hand-in-hand toward the water. They go slow, for Enjolras isn’t the strongest swimmer, and it leaves Grantaire in agony. The water feels like ice to his sensitive skin, and it nips uncomfortably at him and has pain shooting up to his head. He clenches his teeth together and powers through to the best of his ability, thankful that Enjolras is so distracted by the surfers out in the near distance.

When they are about waist deep, Enjolras pulls him into a kiss, but Grantaire is quick to stop Enjolras before their lips can meet, prompting Enjolras to pull back some with a questioning frown.

“There are kids watching,” he points out, motioning toward a family tossing a beach ball around somewhat close to them. 

“That hasn’t stopped you before,” Enjolras presses. “What is it you always say? ‘These young children should thank us for showing them what same sex relationships really look like.’“

Grantaire can vaguely recall saying that once, or twice. Okay, he says it almost anytime he and Enjolras kiss in public, but he waves a hand toward the ocean with an over-dramatic sigh. “E, we shouldn’t waste time doing something we can do at anytime! I mean, look around you!” He pauses, hand gliding along the water. “There’s a whole world down there, you know?”

“The only world I need is right in front of me.” 

Grantaire curses under his breath. Enjolras is playing dirty, really dirty. But, he can’t kiss him; he won’t risk getting Enjolras sick as well. “Find me a sand dollar, and then we can kiss as much as you want. A whole sand dollar; it has to be intact.”

Enjolras spares him a sharp gaze before he sucks in a deep breath and dives under the water to feel around the ocean floor. The second he’s under, Grantaire gives into the itch in his nose and turns to sneeze sharply into his elbow, once, twice, three rough times that leave him groaning weakly as the force of each sneeze seemed to go straight to his head.

He’s just massaging him pulsing temples when he feels something latch onto his ankle and pull, and next thing he knows, he’s falling back into the water with a loud smack. His head goes under, and when he shoots back up with harsh coughs, Enjolras is laughing beside him.

“I like this whole beach thing,” Enjolras says, and Grantaire barks out a few more coughs before turning toward his boyfriend with narrow eyes. 

“You shouldn’t unleash the devil unless you’re ready to walk the bridge of hell.” 

“What?” 

Grantaire’s lips curl up into a devious grin as he gets to his feet, and seconds later, he’s lunging toward Enjolras to dunk him.

*****

For two hours, the two mess around in the water. Grantaire can feel himself growing steadily worse, having to cough and sneeze in secret when Enjolras is under the water still desperately searching for the sand dollar, and he’s beginning to feel almost numb from how cold the water feels to his overly sensitive skin. Despite this, his pounding head feels as if it’s on fire, and he’s having to keep his back to the sun to keep the merciless rays from his hot face.

Finally, the two opt for a break, and Grantaire is more than happy to get out of the icy water. He keeps his cool despite his wavering vision as the two walk hand-in-hand once more toward their area. Grantaire’s disappointed to find that he’s still thoroughly chilled through even out of the water, and he rubs one of their dry towels gingerly across his skin and around his hair to try and bring back some semblance of warmth.

“Isn’t there a souvenir vendor on the pier?” 

Grantaire glances around, eyes squinting at the pier. “I think so? Why?”

Enjolras only smiles, sharp and slightly devious. “I’ll be right back.”

Grantaire wants to question further, but Enjolras is already jogging across the sand toward the pier with his wallet in hand. Grantaire takes the alone time to give into the coughs that are building in his chest, and he coughs and coughs until he’s doubled over and barking out harsh coughs that take his breath away.

He’s dimly surprised at how bad they sound and how long they last, and he can faintly hear someone approaching him and asking if he’s okay. He forces in a few ragged breaths and straightens his back out with a wave of his hand.

“I’m,” he starts as he turns to see a lifeguard watching him with a face pinched in concern. He wants to say fine because he is fine. Only, his vision is suddenly growing dark, and he’s shaking like a leaf from head to toe. All he manages out is a weak “shit” before he’s falling as everything goes dark. 

*****

“-he okay?” 

Grantaire groans and rolls his head to the side as everything goes silent once more.

“-happened?”

He’s really wishing people would shut up and stop pulling him from sleep anytime now.

“-bad fever.” 

At this, Grantaire’s eyes snap open, and he shoots up into a sitting position with chesty coughs that burst from his chest and up his throat.

“R!” 

“Easy.” 

Grantaire blinks through the dizziness coating his vision; he wants to know who the owner of the second voice is, and when he can finally make out faces, he sees a lifeguard and Enjolras both hovering in front of him with striking looks of concern.

It takes a solid minute for Grantaire’s mind to supply that he passed out, since he’s now sitting when the last thing he remembers is standing. “I-”

“Are you sick? Have you been feeling sick? Why didn’t you say?” Enjolras’s words tumble from his tongue, and Grantaire can hear his boyfriend’s emotions at war with one another, with anger and worry competing to take center hold. 

“I don’t have a read, but you’re running a high fever, and that cough of yours doesn’t sound too good. Were you feeling sick before?” 

Grantaire’s gaze drags between the two before it falls to his hands. “I maybe wasn’t feeling well when I woke up this morning.”

“Dammit, R!” Enjolras spits out before he shoots to his feet and rakes trembling fingers through his damp hair.

“E-” Grantaire tries, only to be cut off by harsh coughs once more. He hears Enjolras drop with a low thump back to his side, and moments later, a warm hand finds his back. 

“You may want to get him to a doctor.” 

“We have two friends who practice medicine. I’ll take him to one of them.” 

Grantaire pays attention to the conversation despite his chest burning and lungs exploding.

“Why don’t you get him back to your car? I’ll have a friend help me pack your stuff up, and we’ll bring it to you.” 

Grantaire hears Enjolras mutter a quick thank you, and then he hears the familiar jingle of keys before he’s being guided to his feet. His legs are unsteady, but Enjolras’s arm snakes around his waist, and he leans into the steady weight as his coughing tampers off.

“E, I’m sorry,” Grantaire mutters, but Enjolras remains tense and silent at his side, and the silence remains for an uncomfortable time. 

Enjolras doesn’t utter a word as the two get back to Grantaire’s truck. He keeps quiet as he helps the lifeguards load up their equipment, and he remains eerily silent as he starts the truck and heads back toward the city. 

It isn’t until about an hour into their drive that Enjolras suddenly pulls off onto the side of the interstate. Grantaire is half-asleep and curled in on himself, ridden by guilt and chills, but the sudden stop of his truck has him blinking to Enjolras.

“E?” 

“You can’t do this.” 

Grantaire turns his gaze back to the windshield.

“Seriously, R. How many times do you think you can push yourself like this? One of these times, you aren’t going to wake up.” 

The want to fight back, to tell Enjolras that he does it too, is there, but Grantaire only shakes his head. “I’m sick. I’m not dying.”

“You didn’t see what I saw, Grantaire.” Enjolras says, voice cracking enough to have Grantaire looking toward him with a frown. 

“You were just lying there. You looked so still, and so pale, and I just-”

“Hey,” Grantaire leans toward him and places one hand atop of Enjolras’s. “I’m okay. I promise. I just really wanted to take you to the beach.” 

“I’m not worth you pushing yourself like this.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“R-”

“Enjolras,” Grantaire interrupts with a weak cough. “You can say shit like that all you want, but that’s never going to change that I would do anything for you.” 

Enjolras sighs at this and places his hands around the steering wheel, gripping it until his knuckles turn white. “Then you will do as I say and not argue when I take us straight to Joly’s. Combeferre is meeting us there.”

Grantaire nods and keeps his gaze locked on Enjolras until the latter eases the truck back onto the interstate. They keep quiet for another twenty minutes, and Grantaire is just drifting off once more when he feels something drop into his lap. He looks down and blinks at a fake sand dollar, still with the $4.99 price tag.

“For next time.” Enjolras says without looking away from the road. 

“This is fake.” 

“You never said it had to be real, just whole.” 

Grantaire nods at this, and picks up the fake sand dollar with a soft smile, feeling almost as if the small item is breaking the tension between the two.

“I love you,” Grantaire tells Enjolras as he flips the sand dollar around in his hands. 

Enjolras is quiet for a moment, but then he breathes out a low sigh.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is probably one of my favorite Les Mis fics that I've written. I hope you guys enjoy!


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